


let us go and make our visit

by chromyrose



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Declarations Of Love, Feelings Realization, Getting Together, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Morning After, Morning Cuddles, Non-Sexual Intimacy, POV Alternating, Post-Canon, Requited Unrequited Love, Tipsy Characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 18:05:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9135337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chromyrose/pseuds/chromyrose
Summary: Daichi falls in love with Asahi when they're sixteen years old.He doesn't realize it until they're twenty-four.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Daichi/Asahi is absolutely my secret favorite Haikyuu!! pairing, and yet I found that I have never written them without it being a polyamorous relationship with Suga (and sometimes also Nishinoya). What better excuse to finally write my OTP than their shared birthday weekend? 
> 
> Chapter One is from Daichi's POV and covers the events of a night out. Chapter Two will be from Asahi's POV and will cover the "morning after".
> 
> The title is from T.S. Eliot's poem "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock." This fic is thematically the opposite of this poem, but I think there's something interesting in the juxtaposition.
> 
> (This fic was formerly titled "Epiphany.")

The moment when Daichi falls in love with Asahi comes during their second year of high school, at the Golden Week training camp. Coach Ukai didn't hold back that day, as he never does, and come night time even the more excitable of the first years are collapsed in heaps on their futons. Daichi wakes up to darkness, and the pressure of his bladder urging him out of his warm, comfortable sleep. 

He pads to the bathroom half asleep, so unaware of his surroundings he doesn't even realize he stepped past an empty futon until he sees the light coming from under the bathroom door. Wincing as becomes aware that he'll have to wait, Daichi steps up to the door, ready to knock and rush whoever it is that's in there; a voice from the other side stops him before he can. 

_”You can do this,”_ the voice insists, though it's also quavering. _”Everyone is counting on you, Azumane. You can do this. You won't be the one to let Suga and Daichi down. You won't.”_

Asahi, Daichi realizes slowly, the voice washing over him. He sounds so forceful, so unlike the glass-hearted, delicate teammate Daichi has grown close to in the past year. It's the most severe he's ever heard his friend, and something warm blooms in his chest at the way his name sounds in that tone. 

Daichi knocks on the door, pushes it open before there's a response, and leans in the doorway with a grin. Asahi squeaks where he's standing by the sinks, probably having just been staring at himself in the mirror, and hides half his face in his hands.

“You should be asleep,” Daichi drawls, the grin on his face broad and a little cruel. “Not that I'm not impressed with the confidence. Where is that when we have a match?” 

Asahi's lips are pouted, his eyes turned down like a kicked puppy's, like he doesn't trust that Daichi isn't teasing him – and yeah, that's fair. Daichi nudges his shoulder as he passes and smiles again, a little softer, and Asahi looks less upset, but runs off without a word back to the makeshift bedroom. 

Daichi thinks nothing of this moment for years, until he is 24 and in a club with his two best friends from high school, a little tipsy on something sweet Suga picked for him, and Asahi has those same kicked puppy eyes – that's when it clicks for Daichi. 

“I think I've been in love with you for years,” he says, the words bubbling up from his chest, past his throat, out of his lips, all without bypassing his brain. Suga and Asahi's conversation cuts off abruptly, and suddenly the club seems all-too quiet even with the music on full blast as always. 

Suga reacts first, tension melting out of him as it's replaced with laughter. Almost-manic laughter.

“I knew it, I knew it,” he wheezes when he finally can, the laughter ebbing. “I could almost see the arrow Cupid shot at your dumb ass, you were _so obvious_.”

Asahi coughs into his drink, cheeks a little rosy; Daichi can't tell if he's blushing, or if it's just the lights from the club reflecting off of his skin that way. 

“Don't be cruel, Suga,” he says tersely. “Congratulations, both of you...” 

Daichi gapes at Asahi, and he can see Suga doing the same in his periphery. Then Suga dissolves into another laughing fit, this time bracing himself against the table as he clutches a stitch in his side. 

“You two deserve each other!” He cries, attracting attention from the surrounding tables. Fortunately, the other patrons see nothing of interest and turn back to their own business. Daichi scowls a little and smacks Suga's arm – gently, because this is Suga, who knows exactly where the kidneys sit and isn't afraid to jab them, hard. Suga wipes tears from his face but manages to sober up enough to pick up his drink and get to his feet. 

“I'm going to flirt with that cute guy. Work this out, children. Remember: communication is key!” 

Daichi watches his back for just a second before he turns to watch Asahi watch Suga go instead. Asahi's expression is still twisted in confusion, even when he looks back at Daichi. 

“He couldn't possibly think you meant me... could he?” 

Daichi finds his mouth his dry, and he licks his lips. “He could. He _should_ , because Suga's always been the perceptive one. And I do mean you, Asahi.” 

“...O-Oh,” Asahi manages to murmur after a moment of wide-eyed shock, “Me?” 

“You.” 

“In... love?”

“I'm fairly certain,” Daichi affirms seriously. He rests his elbows on the table so he can put his chin on his hands and stare Asahi down, catalog his reaction, figure out what's going on inside of his head. 

“Why?” The question bubbles up out of Asahi and he looks surprised by it, so Daichi wonders if it isn't as raw as his confession had been. 

“Your face. The face you made just now, that is,” Daichi clarifies. “It reminded me of Golden Week, second year, when I caught you in the bathroom. Do you remember?”

“Of course I remember. I can't ever forget the really embarrassing moments,” Asahi laments. 

“It wasn't embarrassing at all. It was... it was almost definitely the moment I fell in love with you.” 

“Love?” Asahi echoes, voice tight. “Really, Daichi, that word is so... big.” 

“My feelings for you are big,” Daichi says, and finds that it's true. At the moment, they're so big they're overwhelming him. “You're reliable and loyal and kind, even when you don't want to be. Maybe I'm oblivious to my feelings, but I'm not blind to your... wonderfulness.” 

Daichi is certain that Asahi is blushing now, and he smiles, wishing for a camera to record that face. He hopes his memory will do. 

“Fuck,” Asahi swears softly. “I've wanted to earn your approval for years. And you're telling me it was talking to myself in a bathroom that did it?” 

Moving into the vacant seat between them left behind by Suga, Daichi grins crookedly, feeling pieces he didn't realize were gone settle into place. “Maybe you should look at it as, I fell for the person you were being when you weren't trying to do anything but be yourself. You, Asahi.” 

He makes a choked noise in this throat, something like a sob, but Daichi isn't alarmed; this is his glass-hearted ace, and he knows that, like _kintsugi_ , when something inside of Asahi breaks, he's always built back stronger and more beautiful than before. 

However, Daichi is alarmed when two large, warm palms suddenly engulf either of his cheeks, and he's pulled into a high speed collision kiss.


	2. Chapter 2

The moment when Asahi falls in love with Daichi comes on the first day of volleyball club in their first year; Asahi has always been quick to fall in love, and slow to fall out. 

At first it's the way Daichi carries himself in front of the upperclassmen – Asahi himself can barely get through a simple introduction without stuttering over his words, but Daichi's sneakers are planted firmly down on the hardwood, and his voice is loud and clear and firm when he declares that he belongs here, at Karasuno. 

Then, as three years pass, it's a hundred more things, some small, some large: Daichi doesn't join in when Suga calls Asahi mean-spirited nicknames, even when they're funny; Daichi smacks Asahi on the arm and reasserts his faith in him, even when he's holding onto one of his teeth and bleeding from his gums, his cheek angry-swollen; Daichi doesn't chase him when he leaves the team, because he trusts that Asahi will come back. 

But for all that Asahi learns about his best friend in those three years, there are important questions left unanswered; does Daichi like boys? And if he does, does he like boys like Suga, who dance their way into his personal space? Boys like Kuroo, who send fire through his veins? Or boys like Ikejiri, or any of the captains they've played against; Bokuto, Terushima, Oikawa, Ushijima...?

Could he like a boy like Asahi, who will give everything he has to him, no secrets and no shame, even knowing it's not enough? 

Before graduation, Asahi loosens the second button on his gakuran, the one he rarely wore past second year because his chest grew too broad for it. He had to wear it to the ceremony anyways, so the button would probably have popped off had he not loosened the string – is what he tells himself. When the ceremony is over and the team meets in their gym, he looks Daichi in the eye and the words are on the tip of his tongue, his fingers are shaking at his sides as he prepares to act– 

And then Tanaka bursts out sobbing again, and Daichi turns to laugh good-naturedly at him, and Asahi shoves his fist in his pocket. 

He doesn't go to college, and on days off from work he goes to Sendai, to gay bars, to kiss boys in private places where everyone has to keep each other's secrets or risk outing themselves. Suga comes out to him over LINE on his nineteenth birthday. Daichi never comes out, but they meet up every few months and his smile seems a little fonder each time. 

They're 24, they're at a gay night club Suga heard about online, and Daichi confesses that he's loved him since high school. Under the table, Asahi pinches himself to make sure he isn't dreaming. They talk about Daichi's feelings, and the deeper the conversation becomes, the harder Asahi pinches himself, until he's no longer sure pinching himself is an effective method of gauging reality. So, he pulls Daichi in for a kiss, and every nerve in his body alights with sensation, with crackling electricity, and even though this is too good to be true, Asahi accepts that _it is true._

The next morning when Asahi wakes up, Daichi is in his bed. The quilt is bunched up around his hips, and he's sleeping on his stomach, so the bare expanse of his back is on display. Asahi drinks the sight in desperately. They all still play volleyball, but only in local leagues and neighborhood associations, so Daichi isn't as muscled now as he used to be; he's soft under Asahi's touch, and it thrills him.

Asahi leans over, and because he can, he presses a kiss to the warm skin beneath his lips. The waistband of Daichi's boxers peeks out from the edge of the quilt, reminding Asahi what they did, what they haven't done yet, and something in his core unravels and melts, spreading heat up and down his body. 

Asahi feels greedy, so he keeps kissing Daichi; the freckle on his upper arm, the downy baby hairs in the space where his neck dissolves into his back, the dimples and bumps created by features under his skin. He feels it beneath his mouth when Daichi's breathing changes, and fights past a wave of embarrassment to keep kissing him. 

“Asahi,” Daichi drawls, his voice thick and rough. Asahi's body reacts immediately. “Y'r beard's the worst.” 

“I'm sorry,” he murmurs back, not sorry at all. It's grown out since high school, a little less of a patchwork goatee, and Asahi's learned to take care of it better, so he knows it's soft. Daichi had giggled when he brushed it against his cheek the night before. 

Daichi sits up on his forearms, and Asahi moves away to give him the space; their eyes meet. Daichi smiles, and his lips pucker slightly. Asahi's forehead hits Daichi's first, then their noses brush, then finally their lips, closing in a kiss. It's stale, tasting of morning breath, but it's also right in a way so few things ever are. Asahi chases that sensation of rightness, and it has him pushing Daichi back down on the bed, straddling his hips, and breathing the air from his lungs. 

Just as the lightheadedness starts creeping in, Daichi pushes Asahi away kindly by the shoulders, and laughs breathlessly. 

“Stop trying to make up for lost time,” he teases. “We still have the rest of our lives.” 

This time, when Asahi cries, it's with Daichi's warm embrace all around him, and his laughter by Asahi's hair. Asahi hopes he can get this guarantee in writing, because in this moment he knows he's been ruined for anyone else.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think! You can find me elsewhere online on [twitter](http://twitter.com/haikyuutiie) and [tumblr](http://zahhaked.tumblr.com).


End file.
